


No Harm in Hypotheticals

by Arwriter



Series: Learned Behavior [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Birthday Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Janus and Remus are mentioned and are sympathetic, Past Abuse, Past manipulation, Protective Everyone, sympathetic everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter
Summary: Virgil has never celebrated his birthday before, and it doesn’t take long for his family to figure out why.They're determined to show him how wrong he is.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Learned Behavior [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918165
Comments: 25
Kudos: 247





	No Harm in Hypotheticals

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter takes place before Thomas finds out about the abuse

Maybe Logan was just pessimistic, but...he did not anticipate this going smoothly. 

They’d planned it out beforehand, despite their wariness to have important discussions behind Virgil's back, but with no past experience and countless red flags over the last few months, Logan had insisted on making sure Roman and Patton didn’t go off the rails with this. 

Which proved to be a good idea, considering Roman’s first suggestion was to make their plans a  _ surprise.  _

“Absolutely  _ not,”  _ he’d snapped, once again reminded how quickly things would spiral into chaos if he wasn’t here to maintain control. “We can  _ not  _ do something like that to Virgil this year. Probably not even next year.” 

Roman had been well meaning of course, always wanting to show his love with grand, over the top gestures, but they needed to be more careful when it came to Virgil. Things that were little or meaningless to them could do unimaginable damage to Virgil’s recovery if they weren’t careful. 

A surprise party would mean the world to Patton or Roman, but to  _ Virgil _ it would mean days of his family planning behind his back, whispering and moving around abnormally, followed by an abrupt change in atmosphere where all the attention was suddenly on him. 

They needed to take it slow, go at  _ Virgil’s  _ pace- not theirs. This wasn’t about what they wanted. So they’d agreed to wait, to bring it up casually a few days in advance, and let Virgil tell them what he needed. 

Now, the four of them were lounged in the living room, taking the rest of the afternoon to themselves while Thomas took a well deserved break. 

Logan was reading, occasionally glancing over to the windowsill where Roman was idly doodling in his notebook, humming under his breath. Patton and Virgil were huddled on the couch, a mess of blankets and pillows- Patton watching the movie they’d put in and Virgil scrolling through his phone. 

It was moments like these, the four of them simply enjoying each other's company, that made Logan’s chest ache with...something he wasn’t quite sure how to identify yet. Patton would probably know, if he had the courage to ask. 

Identifying it didn’t matter. What mattered was Virgil, smirking at his phone, glancing up with a fond smile whenever Patton would giggle at the TV, or sticking his tongue out at Roman with light hearted teasing whenever he caught the Prince’s eyes. 

He was comfortable and happy and it made Logan’s heart...hurt, somehow, illogical of a statement as it was. Because he’d seen Virgil scared and desperate, waiting for beatings and punishments he’d been forced to grow used to. 

Virgil belonged with them. He always had and he always would, sentimental as it was. Logan didn’t think he would ever forgive himself for taking so long to realize, to bring him somewhere safe. 

It  _ hurt, _ Logan had realized recently, to know Virgil didn’t see the good in him that his family did. He hated who he was just as viciously as his abusers had. 

But they would help him see otherwise. No matter how long it took. 

“Virgil?” Roman called softly, pausing whatever he was writing in his notebook. “What’s the date today, Knight-Mare?” 

Virgil scoffed at the nickname, eyes still on his phone. “It’s the 17th.” 

Patton sat up slightly, glancing once at Logan before turning to Virgil. “Hey, isn’t your birthday coming up, kiddo?” 

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting- dismissal, confusion, or even suspicion seemed plausible enough- but it was a bit of a surprise when Virgil immediately froze, shoulders nearly reaching his ears. 

“I, uhm--” Virgil’s eyes had gone a bit cloudy, still staring down at his phone. “I guess.” 

“The 19th, right?” Roman asked, frowning when Virgil didn’t even nod, the anxious side completely still. “Virge?” 

Virgil jumped slightly, but he kept his head down. “Y-yeah.” 

“We’ve got that whole day free,” Patton said softly, reaching over to pat his knee. Virgil didn’t react. “What do you want to do for your birthday, kiddo?” 

_ “Nothing.”  _ He’d answered before Patton had even finished, tense and almost automatic. “I...I don’t want to do anything.” 

The living room went silent, Virgil’s eyes still glued to his now black phone screen while Patton quickly reached over to turn off the TV. 

“Kiddo,” he said, carefully taking Virgil’s hand. He barely seemed to register the touch at all- but at least he didn’t pull away. “We can do anything you want.” 

Virgil shook his head, still horribly tense. “I don’t...I don’t want anything. I don’t want to do anything.” 

Logan thought it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself at this point, almost like he was...oh. 

_ Oh... _

Roman had set down his notebook, fiddling absently with the pencil in his hand. “But--” 

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted, leaning forward when Virgil refused to look up. “Is that what you want? To do nothing?” 

This time, Virgil took a moment to respond, and Logan thought he saw his hands begin to tremble, just for a second. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to get caught in his throat and he just nodded. 

“That’s fine,” Logan agreed, ignoring the appalled looks Patton and Roman were giving him. “Do you mind if we discuss a hypothetical instead?” 

It at least got Virgil to lift his head, regarding Logan with a sort of hesitant uncertainty. He didn’t seem to know how to respond, eventually settling on a tiny shrug. 

“May I come sit by you?” 

Virgil shrugged again, still not moving an inch from his hunched over position on the couch, but his eyes followed Logan’s every move as he made his way across the room, nodding gratefully when Patton scooted over to give him space.

“Alright.” Logan carefully took a seat beside Virgil, palm held out for him to take when he felt comfortable. “Since you do not wish to celebrate, why don’t we talk about what you would like to do  _ if  _ we did.” 

Patton and Roman were probably staring at him like he’d grown a second head, but Logan had eyes only for Virgil, who was reacting like the logical side had a knife behind his back. 

“I...what? Why?” 

Logan took the initiative, slowly lacing his fingers with Virgil’s before he got up and fled. “Because I’m curious. There’s no harm in hypotheticals, is there?” 

Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand so hard he thought it might leave a bruise, wide eyes darting around the room like a wounded animal. Like he was searching for a trap, for any hint of malice. 

He didn’t relax, not even close, but he did eventually drop his shoulders just a bit, no longer looking like he was being held at gunpoint as he warily turned back to Logan. 

“Ok,” Virgil quietly agreed. “If- if you want.” 

Logan sent what he hoped was a reassuring smile, briefly squeezing the other side’s hand in response. He was never very good at comfort. 

But he had a theory (a good one, based on Virgil’s reactions today) and he knew this was the safest way to get any answers without risk of him retreating to his room or shutting down out of fear.

“So hypothetically,” Logan started, noting how Virgil once again refused to look him in the eyes. “If we were to celebrate, would you like to do something here in the mindscape? Or would you want Roman to create something in the Imagination?” 

Virgil was back in that hunched over defensive position, but his breathing slowed slightly when Logan squeezed his hand again, letting him take his time. 

“I...I dunno,” he muttered. “I mean...whatever you guys would--” 

“It’s  _ your  _ birthday,” Roman called, quickly backtracking when Logan shot him a glare. “Or- your  _ hypothetical  _ birthday. I guess.” 

Logan turned back to Virgil, trying and failing to meet his gaze. “You do not need to worry about us in a hypothetical situation. Where would you prefer to be?” 

Virgil was silent another moment, now tugging nervously on his hoodie strings. “Uhm...here? I guess? I mean...I feel like I’d be more comfortable if...if we actually…” 

“I understand.” It made sense, Virgil had a tendency to get overwhelmed in a new environment, and this whole thing would already be an entirely new experience for him. “How about decorations?” 

Virgil tensed again, and that ache in Logan’s chest only continued to grow. “That’s...that’s a lot of work--” 

“Have you  _ met  _ me, Stormcloud?” Roman asked suddenly. “I could hypothetically have the entire mindscape covered in black and purple streamers in  _ seconds!”  _

Virgil carefully turned to the Prince, eyes wary like he was expecting Roman to suddenly grow angry. But when he was met only with an excited grin, Logan saw him start to relax a little more. 

“I-I guess that’d be cool. You could...you could do a little.” 

Logan couldn’t help but scoff. “If we put Roman in charge of decorating, there won’t be a little of  _ anything.  _ We once had to clean up five  _ inches  _ of confetti.” 

Virgil laughed, and then immediately flinched, wide eyes flying to Logan like he thought he would be punished for getting too comfortable. Logan forced himself to stay composed and calm, reacting only with another gentle smile. 

“How about food?” Logan asked, frowning when Virgil's hold on his hand turned almost desperate. “You can ask for anything you like, Virgil. This is strictly hypothetical.” 

They would all, of course, do anything and everything they could to get Virgil whatever he asked for on his birthday, but he doubted the anxious side would react well to hearing that right now. 

“I...I don’t know,” Virgil said quietly. “Sorry, I’m--” 

“Hey, it’s alright kiddo.” Patton had moved to sit on the coffee table, and he reached out to put a comforting hand on Virgil’s knee. “You don’t need to stress about a thing.” 

“I know how fond you are of Patton’s pancakes,” Logan said, relieved to see a faint smile back on Virgil’s lips. “We could make those for breakfast.” 

Roman was now perched on the arm of the couch, still careful to give Virgil his space. “And I’m sure I could come up with an array of snacks to last us the day. Logan won’t even complain if they aren’t healthy!”

Logan waited, silently pleased with the spark of undeniable hope and excitement in Virgil’s eyes, despite the lingering uneasiness. 

“Maybe...maybe pizza for dinner?” His head snapped up to Logan, eyes wide. “I mean if that- if that’s not--” 

“A valiant choice!” Roman announced before Logan had the chance, and Virgil shot the Prince a teasing smile. “What about a cake? You  _ need  _ a hypothetical cake, Stormcloud.” 

Virgil shook his head, though he seemed significantly less panicked. “No, that’s...that’d be way too much work.” 

“Don’t be silly, kiddo,” Patton chided, and his eyes lit up before Logan could remind him not to push. “What if we made it together? That could be fun, right?” 

Virgil was staring at Patton now, once again searching for any signs of deception or mockery like he sometimes did when he didn’t understand why they were being so kind to him. But he eventually nodded, letting himself smile when Patton beamed back at him.

“Now that we have the food and decorations established,” Logan said. “What would you like us to get you for your birthday, Virgil?” 

Logan watched as all the tension returned to Virgil’s shoulders, the anxious side once again hunched over, free hand clawing at the holes in his jeans. He’d anticipated this being the hardest part, but Virgil honestly looked more uncomfortable than panicked. 

“I...I-I don’t...want anything.”

“Virgil--” 

“No, I know but it’s…” he hesitated, letting out a worryingly shaky breath, bangs falling into his eyes. “I wouldn’t want anything. I- I wouldn’t know how to...just...no gifts. Please.” 

Roman and Patton still looked like they wanted to argue, and Logan knew they weren’t entirely sure what was happening or what his plan was, but he appreciated them following along regardless. 

But again, this wasn’t about what they wanted. They would make as many modifications as Virgil needed to feel at ease. 

“Alright,” Logan agreed, and Virgil’s shoulders relaxed once more. “We do not have to do gifts if they make you uncomfortable.” 

“But you’re good with the rest?” Roman asked, looking far too excited. “The decorations and the food? And we can do whatever you want all day!” 

Virgil shrugged. “I mean...yeah, but it’s- it’s not...actually gonna happen. It’s just...a hypothetical.” 

“And why is that?” Logan asked, ducking his head until he could look Virgil in the eyes. “Why can’t it be real?” 

Virgil had that haunted, cornered look in his eyes again, the panicked glint he got whenever he thought he was being tested, like if he answered wrong he’d be struck down. 

“Because I...I know the rules.” 

“Rules?” Patton echoed, alarm and realization beginning to set in. “What rules, honey?”

Virgil furrowed his brow like  _ they  _ were the ones being ridiculous, eyes on the hand Patton had on his knee. “I shouldn’t...I  _ can’t  _ celebrate. It’s...it’s selfish.” 

The room was plunged into an uneasy silence, and while Logan had prepared himself for something like this- expected it even- it still made that unexplainable ache in his chest worsen to a cold throb. 

Everything the Others had put Virgil through, undeserved pain and punishment and degradation, and  _ still  _ they kept finding new things, new horribly cruel lies that had been ingrained into Virgil’s mind as a way to break him down. 

Sometimes, Logan didn’t know what to do with the waves of emotions that accompanied these discoveries. Logic shouldn’t be able to feel so angry. 

But this...this wasn’t about him. This was about Virgil, who’d been taught he’d be punished for simply acknowledging his own birthday. 

“Selfish?” Roman asked before Logan could get his thoughts together. “It’s your  _ birthday.”  _

“And I’m Anxiety,” Virgil argued. “I can’t...I- I make everything worse, so my birthday shouldn’t be...it would just...be a distraction. It’s- it’s not  _ allowed.”  _

He wasn’t...explaining it, Logan realized. It was more like he was reciting it, stumbling over his words like he was expected to know this without question. 

Not for the first time, Logan wished he could sink into the deeper parts of the mindscape and show the Others just how fiercely Virgil was loved. It was irrational, of course. It wouldn’t undo any damage already done. And Virgil had adamantly refused the offer the first time Roman brought it up. 

“Did they tell you that?” Logan asked, forcing himself to set emotion aside. He knew Patton and Roman wouldn’t be able to do that right now. 

Virgil shrugged, still with a death grip on Logan’s hand. “It’s...it’d be a distraction, I can’t ask--”

“Your birthday is not a distraction,” Logan corrected, a bit less gentle than he’d intended. “Do you feel this way about our birthdays?” 

Virgil quickly shook his head, and Logan had a nauseating sense of deja-vu. “No! No, it’s...obviously it’s different for you guys. This...this is just...a rule for me.” 

“A rule. Like how hitting you needlessly was a rule?” 

Virgil flinched like Logan had raised a fist, pulling his hand away in favor of wrapping his arms around himself. “That’s...different.” 

“No, it’s not different!” Roman chimed in, the Prince never one to hide his anger. “It’s  _ exactly  _ the same, Virgil!” 

Virgil shrank back, clearly lost and afraid, looking far too much like he had before the abuse had ended for anyone’s liking. “I...I’m sorry? I didn’t mean--” 

“I’m not mad at you, Virgil. Don’t...God, don’t be  _ sorry.” _ Roman deflated, all remnants of a Prince ready to charge into battle gone just like that. He looked helplessly back at Patton and Logan. 

“It is the same, kiddo,” Patton said. “It’s...I don’t know  _ why  _ they did this but you...you  _ deserve  _ to have your birthday. You deserve to celebrate and be  _ happy.”  _

“But…” Virgil swallowed, nails digging into his hoodie sleeves. “But it’s  _ selfish.  _ I make everything  _ worse,  _ and I- I just make everyone worry and...and you guys- you guys are already so  _ nice  _ so why...why would you  _ celebrate _ having me around? It would- it would be better if I wasn’t even--” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Patton snapped, and his voice was trembling, eyes growing shiny behind his glasses. “Don’t you  _ dare  _ finish that sentence, Virgil.” 

“Patton,” Logan said quietly, for once hating how controlled his voice came out. It made him sound...cold and uncaring. Like this wasn’t tearing him apart to hear. “Please control your tone.” 

Patton’s face fell, and he quickly retracted his hand from where it rested on Virgil’s knee. Roman was staring at the anxious side in disbelief, his own hands trembling and...and Logan was clearly the only person in the room not seconds away from bursting into tears. He was expected to fix this. 

He wasn’t...entirely sure how. 

“I’m so- I’m sorry,” Virgil was saying before Logan could pull himself together. “They told me that I’m- that I just--”

“No one is angry at you,” Logan managed. “We only...we don’t want you to feel that way. And I’m very sorry that you do. Things would...things would be so much worse without you, Virgil. You have no idea how wrong you are.”

Virgil shook his head, the movement so small they all almost missed it. “No, I...I know Thomas needs me now. I won’t duck out again.” 

“It’s not just that,” Roman jumped in. “You make  _ us  _ better. Not only Thomas- but  _ us.  _ The four of us. We’re a family and I...we left you without help for so long. But that’s all over now. A proper birthday is the  _ least  _ you deserve- honestly, you deserve the most  _ grand _ and fabulous party we could throw!” 

Virgil shook his head again, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face, eyes shining with something Logan couldn’t read. “No I- I don’t. I barely...I’m not any better than all of you.” 

They all heard the words Virgil decided not to say out loud, the self hatred that would make Patton’s tears finally spill over. Logan knew he was trying not to let those thoughts control him anymore, and he’d managed to ask for help a few times, but it wasn’t a simple process. Not after living like he had for so long with no one to show him otherwise. 

“No,” Logan agreed. He took a risk, slowly reaching forward to take Virgil’s hand again, smiling when he didn’t flinch away. “You’re an equal. And you deserve to be treated as such.” 

Virgil stayed quiet, miserably hunched over himself, and Logan ran his thumb along the anxious side’s knuckles like he’d seen Roman and Patton do before. It took a moment, but Virgil eventually raised his head to meet his eyes. 

“Then why…” he paused when his voice broke, averting his gaze once again. “Why did they hate me  _ so much?  _ What...what did I do wrong?” 

He was desperately searching for an answer, and Logan so badly wished he could offer one. “I don’t know, Virgil. But...what I  _ do  _ know is that you did not deserve it. Not a  _ second  _ of it. What you went through was not your fault.” 

Virgil didn’t respond, not with words, but Logan felt the other side squeeze his hand, his breathing picking up just enough to be noticeable. 

Logan didn’t need a verbal answer to know Virgil didn’t believe what he was being told.

But that was alright. It wasn’t the first time they’d reassured him, and it wouldn’t be the last. They were all willing to say it as many times as Virgil needed to hear. 

“We love you, kiddo,” Patton said after a moment. “We all love you, so  _ so  _ much. I hope...I  _ know  _ that one day you’ll see how amazing you are, too. You just gotta hang in there.” 

“Indeed!” Roman announced, breaking into a wide grin. “Your recovery may prove to be a perilous journey, but you will always have us by your side, Stormcloud. We’ll be right there with you to fight off any beasts you encounter!” 

Logan frowned, free hand adjusting his glasses. “I sincerely doubt Virgil will have to  _ fight  _ anything, Roman.” 

“It’s a  _ metaphor,  _ Microsoft  _ Nerd.”  _

Any further argument died in Logan’s throat when he heard Virgil choke out a laugh, wobbly and small as it was, leaning a bit on Logan’s shoulder. “Y-you guys are huge fucking dorks.” 

Roman gave a gasp of faux offense, and Logan didn’t bother to hide his own smile while Patton reached forward to ruffle Virgil’s hair. “Language, please.” 

“The point is,” Logan said. “We would very much like for you to be able to celebrate your birthday however you want. You will never be punished or ridiculed, especially not for this.” 

“Your existence is worth celebrating, Virgil,” Patton said. He leaned forward, eyes bright and hopeful. “So...what would you like to do for your birthday, kiddo?” 

“I…” Virgil hesitated, glancing between all of them once more like a tiny voice in his head was still trying to convince him this was a trap. “Could we...could we do the hypothetical thing? Is- is that ok?”

Logan smiled, relieved and hopeful beyond words. “Of course, Virgil. We can do anything you like.” 

Virgil was nearly twenty minutes late to breakfast, which was ridiculous considering all he had to do was open the door and go downstairs. 

But today was his...his...it was the 19th. And he’d agreed to celebrate this year. He’d _agreed_ to celebrate, which meant there was a chance he was about to walk directly into a trap. Virgil didn’t _get_ to celebrate. He wasn’t useful or good, he didn’t get to have a birthday like everyone else. 

But the Others had been wrong about so many things. They’d all hurt him when they shouldn’t, and the light sides had proved so many times that it wasn’t like that anymore. They  _ weren’t _ like that. 

But what if this was a  _ trick?  _ What if they were testing him, waiting to see if he was really selfish enough to come down and expect the day to be about  _ him.  _ About  _ Anxiety.  _

Maybe they  _ wanted  _ him to stay up in his room. Maybe that was the whole point. Maybe if he came downstairs he’d be  _ punished- _

God, this was so stupid. 

This wasn’t a trap or a cruel trick. He was safe, he could open his door and go downstairs. No one was going to hurt him. He was  _ fine.  _

The Others had asked him every year what he wanted to do for his birthday, a hand raised and waiting to strike if he didn’t answer with a panicked  _ “nothing”  _ soon enough. Those had just been the rules. 

But it was different this time.  _ It was going to be different this time.  _

And yet it still took an embarrassingly long time to gather the courage to leave his room, shutting the door behind him quietly and making his way downstairs. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect (Roman had stopped asking Virgil for input on how to decorate the mindscape when he noticed how nervous it made him) but he found himself stopping in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide as he took in the state of the mindscape. 

Logan had briefly warned him that Roman tended to go over the top when it came to decorating- which hadn’t been a surprise, Princey went over the top with  _ most _ things- but he hadn’t expected...something like this. 

Virgil could barely see the ceiling anymore with the number of balloons that had been summoned, purple and black and adorned with cartoonish spider webs. There were matching streamers draped across the living room walls, and a banner above the kitchen’s entrance that read ‘Happy Birthday’ in glittering silver letters. 

_ “Holy shit.”  _

He’d seen Roman decorate for parties before, and this could hardly be considered as extravagant as the setting for some of the events in the past but...he’d just never thought anyone would go out of their way to do something like this for  _ him.  _ Until the other day, it had never even been a possibility. 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Roman was leaned in the kitchen doorway, a hopeful smile on his face as he took in Virgil’s reaction. But behind the smirk there was something a bit more hesitant. “You like it?” 

And Virgil recognized that tone, vulnerable hope covered up with a mask of smug confidence. It was the tone he took when he was showing off his latest project or idea, something he was proud of, when he so desperately wanted someone’s validation. 

Roman was watching him like Virgil enjoying his birthday was the most important thing in the world.  _ Oh.  _ Oh  _ wow.  _

It was barely nine in the morning. Virgil could  _ not  _ already start crying. 

“I do,” he said softly, hoping Roman could recognize the words for what they were. “I...jeez, Logan wasn’t kidding about you going all out.” 

Roman groaned, but his smile was relieved, more genuine and bright now. “I  _ had  _ a whole plan! I was going to make lights and fountains and play music! And I was going to move the couch to put in--” 

“Oh my god,” Virgil cut him off with a choked laugh, gently swatting at one of the low hanging streamers as he stepped off the stairs. “Princey, I would have _killed_ you. This is...this is perfect. Really.” 

Roman beamed, taking Virgil by the hands and leading him into the kitchen. “You just wait, Stormcloud. It’s only going to get more and more grand each year!” 

He froze at that, Roman’s words said casually like something obvious, ringing with genuine excitement and Virgil...had to take a second to wrap his head around their meaning. 

Because maybe it was stupid but Virgil had just sort of assumed this was a one time thing, and he needed to take it all in before it was gone forever. 

But  _ each year... _ Roman was already bursting with excitement for Virgil’s  _ next  _ birthday. They planned on throwing him more parties and it was...it was something they were looking  _ forward  _ to. 

“Really, Roman,” Logan said as the pair entered the kitchen. The logical side was napkins and utensils to the table, and Virgil caught the smile he quickly tried to hide. “Virgil hasn’t even had breakfast yet, and you’re talking about  _ next  _ year?” 

“Of course! You’re the one always telling us to plan ahead!” 

“But we--” 

_ “Kiddos,”  _ Patton called from where he was stationed at the oven, and the bickering came to a halt as he turned to Virgil with a wink and a smile. “Ignore them. Happy birthday, Virgil!” 

And there was one more thing Virgil had to take a moment to process, heart pounding in his chest as the words settled, because this was _actually_ _happening._ It wasn’t a trick, he wasn't going to be yelled at for letting himself enjoy the day. 

“I...thanks, Pat,” he managed, wishing his voice didn’t sound quite so bewildered. Birthdays weren’t this big of a deal to anyone else. “Do you want help with breakfast?” 

“Absolutely not, birthday boy,” Roman cut in before Patton could answer, and suddenly a steaming mug of coffee was being pressed into Virgil’s hands. “You just sit back and relax. That’s what birthdays are all about.” 

It took a bit of extra coaxing from Logan and more reassurances from Patton that he really didn’t need any help, but Virgil was eventually seated at his usual spot at the table, sipping at his coffee and silently reminding himself to breathe. 

He was pretty sure normal people weren’t terrified of messing up their own birthday. But what if he did something wrong? Maybe if he didn’t come across appreciative enough, or he said the wrong thing at the wrong time, everyone would decide that Anxiety really didn’t deserve a birthday after all. 

But they...they seemed perfectly happy with him now. And they knew he’d never done any of this before. They’d been patient with him in the past...they’d be patient with him today. Even if he ruined everything. 

“You get the first serving, kiddo,” Patton announced, and Virgil managed not to jump when a stack of pancakes was placed in front of him, a bacon smiley-face assorted on the top. “There’ll be extra batter if anyone wants seconds.” 

It didn’t take long for everyone to be served, passing around syrup bottles and bowls of fresh fruit Logan had gotten out. And although there was extra food and decorations, it didn’t take Virgil long to realize how...normal everything felt. 

It was the same as any other breakfast, the four of them falling into familiar banter like they did every morning, all jokes and smiles and excitement, the air heavy with the smell of bacon and syrup. 

A part of Virgil had been dreading coming downstairs today, something in him that wasn’t just paranoid he was being set up. He’d been terrified of being the center of attention, of everything changing, of seeing his family’s forced smiles and cheer. He hadn’t known exactly what to expect, but he’d figured it would feel...forced. Fake. 

But other than Virgil being given extra food and Roman offering to sing Happy Birthday (Virgil had threatened to pour syrup in his lap if he even thought about it) everything was just as comfortable and real as it always was. 

And considering being welcomed into their family was still the single best thing to ever happen to him, Virgil couldn’t have asked for anything more.

He did, however, begin to feel a little on edge when Patton  _ also  _ refused to let him help clean up the kitchen, he and Roman quickly clearing the table by themselves. 

Because  _ he’d  _ been the one to ask for pancakes in the first place. The mess only existed because of him, and they--

“Virgil.” Logan’s voice cut off his spiraling thoughts, his hand on Virgil’s arm. “This day is for you. No one will resent you for doing a little less work. Not on your birthday, or any other day.” 

“I know. I know, but--” Oh god, he was  _ already  _ messing this up. “I’m just...sorry I’m just not used to...if- if I don’t...if I didn’t clean up they’d--” 

“I know,” Logan said, his words meant only for Virgil. “I know, Virgil. It’s hard to unlearn, and you’re doing wonderfully. But you do not need to earn our kindness. Allowing yourself to relax does not have consequences. Alright?” 

Virgil hesitated a moment, taking in the streamers and balloons, and content humming coming from Roman and Patton at the other side of the kitchen. They didn’t...have to do this. There was no obligation to give him this. They...they  _ wanted  _ to. 

“Ok,” he said softly, reaching up to squeeze Logan’s hand. “Thank you.” 

“You deserve it,” Logan said, with that tone he took when he wouldn’t hear any further argument on the matter. “Come on. Let’s get out of their way.” 

  
  


The rest of the day was just as relaxing as the breakfast had been, although Roman tried to sing every time they started something new, only silenced when Virgil shoved a pillow in his face. 

An array of snacks had been summoned to last them the day, and Virgil pretended not to see how badly Logan wanted to lecture them on the benefits of a healthy diet, smirking at the logical side whenever he would return with another plate of chips and candy. 

They spent the day eating junk food and playing board games (always letting Virgil pick what they did next) and none of them seemed bitter or resentful. No one was forcing their laughter or enjoyment, and no one was only pretending to tolerate Virgil’s company out of pity. 

By the time Patton happily dragged Virgil into the kitchen to bake his birthday cake, Virgil honestly couldn’t remember ever smiling so much in one day. The celebration was simple, and amazing beyond words. It was all perfect. 

Then Thomas summoned him, alone, while they were waiting to take the cake out of the oven, and all of Virgil’s defenses were back up in an instant. 

No one else got the summons, but no one seemed alarmed when Virgil said anything either. When Patton suggested Thomas simply wanted to wish him a happy birthday, Virgil forgot how to breathe. 

Did Thomas even... _ know _ it was Virgil’s birthday? Would he be angry at Virgil for celebrating this year? 

Thomas would expect Virgil to know his place, to recognize that no one wanted to acknowledge, let alone celebrate Anxiety’s life. That’s what...that’s what the Others had always told him. 

They’d been wrong about the Light Sides, and maybe about Janus and Remus, too. The Dark Sides had only stopped mentioning Virgil’s birthday after he’d gotten into the habit of shutting down any mention of it, convinced that any act of kindness was just a cruel joke. 

But Thomas...Thomas was still the one that had to deal with Anxiety’s negative effects. He was the one who put up with Virgil being paranoid and annoying. Virgil put him through so much, and if Thomas found out that Virgil was making everyone  _ waste _ their  _ time _ for his stupid birthday-

“Virgil?” Patton called, and Virgil realized he was still standing in the middle of the kitchen. “You want us to come with you, kiddo?” 

There wasn’t any getting out of this. Thomas had the right to be angry, but Virgil wasn’t going to drag the others down with him. 

The longer he took, the more suspicious he would seem. So he shook his head, promised Patton he would be back in time to ice the cake, and sunk out of the mindscape with a shaky breath. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. A part of him (the part he’d been desperately trying to quiet lately) was prepared for immediate yelling, for Thomas to be furious and disgusted with Virgil- with  _ all  _ of them for even acknowledging that Anxiety  _ had  _ a birthday.

Thomas was on the couch when Virgil appeared at his usual spot on the stairs, willing himself to calm down and take whatever Thomas wanted to do to him. Panicking would only make everything worse for both of them. 

Thomas hadn’t seen him yet, Virgil still partially hidden by the railing, but he didn’t exactly look angry. His leg was bouncing and he looked a bit restless (he usually did if he had a reason to summon Virgil) but he seemed fairly relaxed, an envelope sitting in front of him on the coffee table. 

Virgil wasn’t sure what he wanted but...but maybe he’d get lucky and Thomas wouldn’t even know it was Virgil's birthday. Maybe no one had told him. He stepped off the stairs and cleared his throat, caught off guard when Thomas stood and smiled at him. 

“Hey, Virge! Happy birthday!” 

Virgil froze, chest tight and cold as he frantically tried to come up with a response. What did Thomas want him to do? Did he want him to deny it? Confess right away and apologize? 

Thomas was still staring at him, head tilting as excitement melted into something closer to confusion, and Virgil scrambled to form words around his panic. 

“Uh...thanks.” Brilliant. Roman would be proud. Desperate to get this over with, he glanced around the living room for whatever imminent threat Thomas needed him for. “What’s up?” 

Thomas’s smile dropped a bit, but he was talking before Virgil could backtrack. “I don’t...need you for anything right now, buddy. I won’t keep you, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” 

Virgil stuffed his hands in his pockets, suddenly wishing he had asked Patton to come with him. “You...uh, why?” 

Thomas frowned and Virgil winced, eyes suddenly glued to the carpet. “Why wouldn’t I?” Virgil was silent, frantically trying to figure out if this was some obscure trick. “Virge?” 

Virgil shrugged, digging his nails into his palms from within his pockets. His heart was slamming against his chest, making it almost impossible to think clearly. Thomas hadn’t  _ done  _ anything, there was no reason to be so scared. 

“I dunno,” he muttered, hunching his shoulders when his voice shook. “You’re...you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you guys,” Thomas said softly. “And I’m the one who just dragged you away from your party, so--” 

“What?” Virgil flinched back, caught off guard by the volume of his own voice, now  _ definitely  _ wishing he’d asked someone to come with him. “You  _ know  _ about that?” 

Thomas still didn’t look  _ angry,  _ not the angry Virgil was used to- sick and twisted, ready to lash out and hurt without warning- but his expression was completely unreadable. That was somehow worse. 

“I mean...yeah,” he said. “Logan mentioned you had plans. I kinda figured you guys would do something anyway, now that we know when your birthday is.” 

He  _ still  _ wasn’t angry, or he was at least doing a good job of hiding it. He kept his voice low and even, careful to keep his distance. Virgil wasn’t...entirely sure what he was supposed to do. 

“You’re not…” Virgil paused. Asking outright usually just made the anger  _ worse  _ but...but Thomas looked so ridiculously kind, if only a little confused. “Are you mad?” 

Thomas blinked, any remains of a smile completely wiped off his face, taking a startled step back like he’d been slapped. Virgil’s heart sank as the panic set in, but he didn’t get a chance to take it back before Thomas’s expression softened. 

“Mad?” he repeated carefully, like he might have misheard. “You think I’m gonna be mad at you for...celebrating?” 

Virgil didn’t trust himself to answer out loud so he just shrugged, not able to lift his gaze to meet Thomas’s eyes. 

“Oh, gosh _Virgil--”_ There were footsteps moving closer, stopping as soon as Virgil flinched. “I’m not mad. Of course I’m not mad! Why would...Virge, why do you think I would be?” 

Virgil shrugged again, but he knew that wouldn’t cut it right now. Not when he could feel Thomas staring at him, waiting for an explanation. 

“I just...figured you wouldn’t be ok with it,” he said. “I’m your  _ Anxiety  _ you don’t...I know you don’t  _ want  _ me. I’m not...I’m not good. Not like Patton or Roman or Logan. I’ve never...been something to celebrate. I just- you know, figured we weren’t telling you.” 

Right, because  _ that  _ would get him out of trouble. Telling Thomas his first instinct was to keep things from him. 

Thomas took a step forward, and Virgil had to give himself a bit of credit for not flinching away this time, even if he tensed up on instinct. Thomas wasn’t going to hurt him. That  _ wasn’t  _ Thomas. He would  _ never- _ not even to Virgil. 

“Hey...can you look at me for a second?” 

Virgil forced himself to obey, surprised to find a gentle smile when he cautiously met Thomas’s eyes. “I...I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Thomas said. “I’m...pretty sure it’s my fault that you feel this way, bud. I shouldn’t have waited so long to reach out to you.” 

Thomas didn’t know. He didn’t know Wrath and the Others existed yet, let alone what they had done to Virgil, the mindset they’d conditioned him to have. 

It wasn’t Thomas’s fault, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to tell him that. Not yet. He wasn’t ready for Thomas to see just how pathetic Virgil was, how easy he was to control once kindness was off the table. He wasn’t ready for Thomas’s smile to no longer be for him. 

“You should always get to celebrate,” Thomas continued. “I  _ want  _ you to be able to celebrate. You deserve it, Virgil.”

“I’m your Anxiety, Thomas.” 

“You are,” he agreed. “You’re my protector. You’re also my friend, and I love you. I wish I had told you that sooner.” 

Virgil had been close to tears pretty much all day, resolutely pushing them down each time the lump in his throat grew. He refused to break that streak in front of Thomas- but it was  _ really  _ getting close. 

“I...I’m sorry,” he said, voice breaking just enough to be noticeable. “For hurting you, for...for being the bad guy. I didn’t want that.” 

“Hey, no apologizing.” Thomas’s hand moved down to squeeze his shoulder, and Virgil didn’t flinch or tense up. “We all made mistakes- but today’s your birthday.  _ So-”  _ He moved back, picking up the envelope from the coffee table. “-I got you a card. Logan said you weren’t comfortable with presents this year, but I still wanted to...you know. Get you something.” 

Virgil blinked, suddenly unable to get himself to move to take the offering, wide eyes darting from Thomas to the envelope in his hands. Beneath his thumb, Virgil could see his name written out in cursive. 

“I...” His hands were shaking, and the lump in his throat was getting harder to ignore. “Really?” 

Thomas smiled, no deception or hidden hatred, as kind and open as the rest of Virgil’s new family. “Of course.  _ Of course,  _ Virgil.” 

He held the card out again, and there was no denying how much hope he held in his eyes, still nervous like he was worried Virgil would refuse the gift and sink out without a word. 

But Virgil managed to get ahold of himself, hating the way he couldn’t stop trembling as he carefully took the envelope, holding it close to his chest like something fragile. 

And if he held on just a bit too tight when Thomas opened his arms to offer a hug, neither of them said anything about it. 

“Alright,” Logan announced, clapping his hands together as Patton curled up next to Virgil on the couch, setting the pizza box down on the table. “Before you pick a movie, Virgil, we have...one more thing planned.” 

It was their last plan for the night, cuddling up together on the couch with pizza (Logan was begrudgingly letting them eat in the living room) watching a movie or two of Virgil’s choosing until they were too tired to go on. They’d had cake less than an hour ago, chocolate with purple frosting, and Virgil had finally let Roman sing Happy Birthday. (Princey had frosting in his hair now, but he’d claimed it was worth it.)

Patton nodded, smiling sheepishly. “We know you said no presents, but--” 

“You guys--” 

_ “But,”  _ Patton continued. “We were planning on giving you this anyway, it just took a little while to finish.” 

“Because it had to be  _ perfect,”  _ Roman announced, coming back from the kitchen with his hands behind his back. “And this is important! It’s a gift from all of us.” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Patton and I merely made a suggestion. You were the one who put all the work into the mechanics and design. By all definitions this is  _ your  _ gift to give.” 

“What?” Roman looked aghast, like he’d just been insulted. “I’m not going to take all the credit!” 

“Since when?” 

“I don’t--” 

“Kiddos,” Patton chided, winking at Virgil who didn’t even bother to hide his growing smile. “Can we give Virgil his gift, please?” 

“Of course,” Roman said, cheeks flushed red as he held out a small package. He was smiling, but he looked even more nervous than he had this morning. “Happy birthday, Stormcloud.” 

Virgil carefully took the box, wrapped in black and white wrapping paper, decorated with tiny Halloween pumpkins and skulls (Virgil hadn’t realized anyone knew how much he loved Halloween) just a bit bigger than his hand. 

He held it in his lap for a second, fighting to wrap his head around the fact that this was a  _ gift.  _ He was actually being given a present and that had  _ never  _ happened before. He was almost too scared to unwrap it. “You...you guys really don’t have to give me anything.”

“We are aware,” Logan said simply. “We  _ wanted  _ to.” 

“Go ahead,” Patton prompted, gentle as ever. “Open it up.” 

They weren’t testing him. They weren’t expecting anything in return. They were here, being kind and patient because they  _ wanted  _ to. He wasn’t going to be punished for letting himself believe that. 

Virgil nodded and slowly began to unwrap the present, some sentimental part of him careful not to tear it too badly, and eventually unveiled a simple black box. With a curious glance up at Roman, he lifted the lid to reveal...something he couldn’t quite identify. 

It was a sleek, purple rectangle made out of some kind of shiny metal. It fit in Virgil’s hand when he picked it up, just slightly bigger than one of Logan’s flashcards and only maybe half an inch thick. 

One half of the rectangle had a hole through the metal,  and above it was a tiny little red light, and a bigger, shiny black button. On the lower corner was a detailed engraving of Virgil’s symbol. 

“It’s a door lock,” Roman offered, absently rubbing the back of his neck. “After the, ah,  _ door _ incident I...we thought you might want to have a bit more control over your privacy.” 

He didn’t seem to know how to continue, looking everywhere but Virgil’s wide eyes, eventually landing on Logan with what could only be described as a pleading expression. 

Logan sighed, moving to sit beside Virgil and Patton on the couch. “We understand that this is a sensitive issue, and that privacy is very important to you considering your past. None of us would betray your trust by entering without permission, but we thought you might want something to help you feel more...secure.”

Virgil swallowed, giddy excitement making him feel distant and numb. “H-how, uh...how does it work?”

“It's magic!” Patton exclaimed, practically bouncing up and down as he beamed up at the Prince. “Roman made it!” 

Roman’s cheeks turned impossibly redder at that, and he shifted uncomfortably where he stood, which Virgil thought was incredibly out of character. Usually Princey would jump in to take as much credit as he could, not shy away from his creations. 

“It’s not that impressive,” he said. “I just conjured it in my realm and uh, tweaked it a bit. When we attach it to your door, it’ll connect to your room and give you total control. If that’s what you want. If you- you obviously don’t have to if you don’t like it!” 

“You can lock and unlock it whenever you like,” Logan added. “We will all still knock regardless, but I believe people entering unannounced is still a fear of yours.”

Virgil, still too stunned to find his words, just nodded numbly. They’d all said they’d understood and promised to knock, but that didn’t stop him from tensing up every time he heard footsteps in the hall, keeping his music low enough to hear someone approaching.

He’d opened up, taking a risk and letting them in on a simple way to scare Virgil into obeying without question. A part of him, the part corrupted by years of endless cruelty and punishments, had been worried they might use it against him one day. 

But instead of exploiting it, or even just ignoring it, they were actually offering a  _ solution.  _ They had found a way to help him relax, to actually feel safe on his  _ own  _ terms. 

And Roman...Roman was afraid he wouldn’t  _ like  _ it. 

“You’re all...ok with me having this?” he asked, just because he needed to be absolutely sure. “Do you...do you want me to keep it unlocked at certain times? I don’t...I don’t have to--” 

“It’s yours, honey,” Patton said. “You can use it however you like. We...we want you to feel safe here with...oh,  _ Virgil.” _

Virgil wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, (he’d really been hoping to hold it in until he was alone) but now there were hot tears streaming down his face, shoulders shuddering under the weight of repressed sobs. 

Because he  _ knew  _ they weren’t going to be like the Others. He’d come to accept that a while ago. But he’d never thought they would do so much to actually  _ help.  _ He hadn’t asked, and he’d been careful not to let his past inconvenience them. 

They cared because they  _ wanted to.  _ He had people choosing to spend their time finding ways to make him feel better, to feel _safe_. He’d never had that before. 

Roman inched closer and opened his arms, and before he could even fully register what he was doing, Virgil was up from the couch and wrapping the Prince in his arms, holding tight and crying into his shirt. 

“Thank you,” he said, breathy and quiet, broken up by tiny sobs.  _ “Thank you,  _ I...you have no idea how much this means.” 

He was going to feel  _ safe.  _ He was going to feel safe in his own room for the first time. 

Everything moved in a distant blur after that, but Virgil knew he didn’t stop smiling the entire time. He didn’t stop crying either, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. 

He hugged Patton and Logan just as tightly, melting into their embraces, thanking all of them over and over again until his voice was hoarse, even as they pulled him close and told him there was no need. 

The pizza had gone cold by the time they settled down to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, but curled up with his family, Roman promising to put the new lock in as soon as the movie was over, Virgil couldn’t imagine a better end to his first birthday.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy super late birthday Virgil! Sorry about the wait on this one, I've been kinda sick lately but its 1am and I'm here now


End file.
